


Should Have Known (You'd Be My Angel)

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels, Gen, Jim thinks he's dead for a while, M/M, STID feels, but other than that it's basically just feels!, post-STID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 18:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: When Jim wakes up after the warp core in STID, he sees Bones, and thinks he's his Angel.Simple as that really.





	Should Have Known (You'd Be My Angel)

Jim wakes up, knowing with crystal clarity that he is dead. He feels his head start to ache at the contradiction his awareness gives that knowledge, and he hears a distant moan past the darkness and flashes of coloured light behind his eyelids. He blinks several times, whatever it is surrounding him blinding him with white and brightness. He feels something warm wrap around him, support him as he sits up and stares dazedly around, everything blurry and out of focus.

He didn’t think being a soul would hurt quite so much as it seems to. He feels the support move, and a face snaps into focus, the rest of the world still a haze of snowy blankness. The face is intensely familiar, sparking a painful warmth inside his chest, and he half-expects to see fire when he looks down and tries to touch his chest. There is none, but he still wonders if his chest somehow holds flames.

“Should have known you’d be my Angel, Bones.” Jim struggles to speak, the words coming out harsh and croaky, a terrifying and vulgar contrast to the surrounding purity, to the white clothing his Angel is wearing. He feels like he’s stained with ash and dirt and regret, far too impure for this pristine reception.

Bones’ face blinks at him, his face drawing into a frown that feels joltingly real, strangely grounding. Without thinking, Jim slides a hand up Bones’ forearm, until his fingertips meet the cloth pushed up his arms. Another place where his weak humanity is meeting something far too perfect.

 “I’m sorry,” Jim continues, his eyes fixed on Bones’ face. “It’s just I thought I’d go to the Bad Place. But I haven’t, because, well, I’m being greeted by you. By your face.”

The Angel wearing Bones’ face presses his lips together firmly, though he doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound.

“It’s alright. Lead the way. I’ll follow you. Is that why you’re him? So I’d follow?” Jim sways a little, dizziness sweeping over him for a moment, Bones’ face slipping away before it comes back, closer now, because he’s moving Jim to rest his back against something soft, looking down at him with concentration that’s so very human Jim almost wants to cry. Abruptly, Jim thinks of something that might explain it all.

“This…this isn’t hell, is it?” His eyes search out Bones’ face again. “You’re not gonna hurt me? That’s not why you’re wearing that face? So it hurts me more?”  
  
The Angel stares at him, shakes his head, something like horror and disbelief in his expression, alive and honest in a way Jim thoroughly believes.

“Okay, I’m sorry –“ Jim notices a misplaced splash of light, and sees its source. His Angel is crying, and he reaches out instinctively to try and soothe the emotion distorting the face he loves so dearly. The Angel flinches away for a moment, before relaxing. “Oh, my Angel, my Bones, I’m so sorry!” He whispers the words intensely, carefully using his thumb to brush away a stray tear from his cheekbone. The Angel feels warm, stubble rough against his fingers. Solid, alive, and so very comforting. Too much so. Jim withdraws, letting his hand hover near his face, feeling the radiating warmth of it.

“Hey, Angel,” He says, softly, raising his voice a little, biting down on the wavering. “I’ll come with you – to heaven or hell. But, I need you to stop wearing his face. It was…so wonderful to wake up to him, to see his face one last time, and I’m forever grateful. But if you keep wearing his face, I’m gonna want to fight. Because the more I see him, the more I know I can’t leave him, not like this, not now.” Jim bites his lip, struggling to find a way to ground himself a little. “I love him too much. At first, wearing his face was kind, but now it hurts too much.”

Bones’ face is staring at him, still, torn between crushing sorrow and something tender that twists Jim’s heart, makes it weep with the tears his Angel is letting fall down his features, dripping onto his clean white clothes and painting sections of them darker.

“Please, don’t cry! I can’t bear this if you cry!” Jim feels tears spill from his own eyes, and he brushes them away as fiercely as he can. He takes a deep breath, keeps his eyes closed to try and stop the tears from falling.

Jim hears a ragged, broken sob, and his eyes fly open just as he feels his Angel’s hand clasp his, pressing it back into the grounding texture of skin and rasp of unshaven beard that he’s longed to touch for so very long.

“Okay,” Jim says, his hand burning under the Angel’s, sharp and stinging. “I’m…Angel, Bones, you have to help me out here. Because this isn’t fitting any of my models for how this should go, nothing made me think I’d have a crying Angel to meet me, and this isn’t how I thought heaven or hell or even limbo would go, so I just need you to-“

The stinging sensation prickles slowly through his arm, warmth and sensation crawling across his skin and deep into his bones. He cuts off his words as his sense of gravity abruptly reasserts itself and he realises he is propped up on some kind of bed, that the pressure on his legs are white covers. His eyes tear themselves from Bones’ tear-streaked face, sight and focus rushing back along with a strange, beeping background noise. This place isn’t empty after all, though it is white. It almost looks like a-

“Hospital?” Jim feels the word tumble from his lips, but he’s already moved on, focussed on looking back at Bones. He sees the lines and dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands are trembling, how his white clothes have resolved themselves into medical whites. One sleeve is pushed up to his elbow and the other is only rolled up once at the cuff, and it’s spattered with tear drops. The Starfleet badge is slightly askew, and his hair is just a shade too messy, and his shaving is uneven. Bones is brimming with wonderful, beautiful flaws and he is astonishingly, perfectly himself. “This is real, isn’t it.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jim, of course it’s real, you absolute goddamn little shit!” Bones growls out the words, almost viciously, his eyes glittering with relief and something Jim thinks is love.

“Yeah,” Jim manages, his face twisting into a grin despite the growing ache all over his body. “That checks out. I’m pretty sure only the real you swears this much.”

“Fuck you, you complete bastard!” Bones takes their entwined hands, presses a kiss to Jim’s knuckles without seeming to realise he’s done it. “You thought I was your goddamn Angel!” Bones is half-wild with emotion, his eyes desperate and his hand clings to Jim’s tightly, almost to the point of pain.

“I’m my defence,” Jim murmurs. “I thought I’d died.”  
  
“So did I.” Bones whispers, and more tears run down his cheeks. Jim squeezes his hand as best as he can, tries to wait for Bones to gather himself.

“Hey, Bones…” Jim says, quietly, when he thinks the tears are slowing again. “Being alive kinda hurts.”  
  
This seems to rouse Bones from the half-stupor he was in, and he leaps into action almost comically fast. He releases Jim’s hand, and Jim watches as he busies himself collecting various implements, taking scans and stabbing him and gently as possible with numerous hypos. Finally, he gives him a sedative. Jim can already feel the world swaying again as Bones’ strong arms lower him back into a lying down position.

“Bones!” Jim says, his words passing with great difficulty through his sleepy mind.

“Yes, Jim?”  
  
“I love you. Like, _you_ you, not Angel you.” Jim’s eyes are sliding shut, and he’s sinking into darkness, but he clings on so he can hear Bones’ response.

“I love you, too, damn idiot kid.” Jim hears Bones give a quiet, sobbing laugh. “Now get some rest.”

Jim lets the darkness wash over him, finally feeling safe. He knows Bones will be there when he wakes up.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!!! Hope you enjoyed this! I was just in the mood for writing something angsty and McKirk-y and here we are!!
> 
> As ever, comments and kudos feed my dark soul and earn my eternal gratitude!!! <3


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